


Need

by jupiterslifelessmoons



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Don't @ Me, F/M, I did my best, Leather, Leather Jackets, Leather Kink, Light BDSM, dominatrix! molly, i guess, i guess? i don't know guys, it's....kind of like a kitten trying to write smut, ok this was my first attempt at anything vaguely sexual, sexual but not explicit, someone requested a dominatrix molly fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-26 12:48:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13236081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jupiterslifelessmoons/pseuds/jupiterslifelessmoons
Summary: Molly’s not as innocent as she looks. Neither are you.





	Need

**Author's Note:**

> anonymous: “AU x male reader request please. Molly Hooper is a secret dominatrix and makes the reader beg for mercy while also teasing them about their leather jacket fetish. (She’d be wearing one of course just to rub it in) probably some whipping but that’s your call ;)”

It was summer in London, and you couldn’t have felt better. You had the wind in your hair, the setting sun at your back, and two of the greatest friends anyone could ever ask for– Sherlock Holmes and John Watson– at your side. Sherlock was hot on the trail of a suspected murderer, and as usual you and John were along to help. Neither you nor John quite knew what was going on, but Sherlock’s enthusiasm was enough to carry you both on a wave of adrenaline. When he’d suddenly exclaimed that he had to get to the morgue right this minute, the two of you had gone along with it, as you always did. Sherlock had claimed that he couldn’t possibly sit still in a cab, and so you were walking. Not that you and John minded. The weather was perfect and it was nice to get out of the flat.

“Hurry up, you two–God, why are short people so slow?”

You and John both let out equally indignant sounds of protest as Sherlock laughed and speed up. You were all out of breath by the time you reach St. Bart’s. Sherlock shoved open the door and all three of you tumbled inside, panting and grinning.

That was when a rather unusual sight halted you mid stride

Molly was waiting at the door for you, and beneath her coat you could see a glimmer of black leather.

Sherlock and John continued walking, oblivious to your frozen state.

“Hello, Molly.”

“Sherlock. Hi. John.” She smiled. “For the murder…?”

“Yep,” said Sherlock, popping the “p” in a rare display of hyperactive enthusiasm. He and John were already moving, nothing having interrupted their drive to solve the case.

“And…erm, is Y/N coming too?”

Sherlock turned and noticed for the first time that you weren’t keeping up. For some reason, he was rolling his eyes.

“Yes of course he’s coming. Aren’t you, Y/N?”

“Y-um, yeah,” you stuttered, turning away from Molly in some confusion. “Sorry.”

John frowned at you. “Something wrong, Y/N?”

“Um. Yes. No. Definitely no. Nothing wrong.” You hurried after the two men, resisting the urge to glance behind you.

The rest of the evening slipped by in an uncertain haze. All the adrenaline had drained from you and left you in a state of quiet thoughtfulness. Sherlock seemed too deep in his own thought to notice, but John kept giving you odd looks every now and again.

You’d had a crush on Molly for ages, but it had always hovered just at the edge of your consciousness. Seeing her in leather had awakened something in you, paired her sweet smile and quietly unshakable attitude with the smooth curves that were much more visible beneath the shining leather.

The following day, you were weirdly restless, and too distracted to even notice the details of the case wrap up. Molly was all you could think about. You left the flat early, fully intending to go for a walk–well, that was what you told John, anyway. Sherlock just grinned when he heard your excuse.

Not that you’d intentionally used it as an excuse, of course. You were going for a walk. Just a…short walk. With a very specific destination.

Your feet had carried you to St. Bart’s almost before you’d noticed you were there yourself. You stood outside for a while, trying to justify your visit with a legitimate, believable excuse. On your third circle in front of the door, it flew open on its own. You stumbled backwards, blinking.

“Y/N…hi. Did you…maybe want to…come in?”

“Um.”

She was wearing the jacket again. It was definitely the same one as before; skin tight, the collar slightly popped, no pockets. Only this time it was a lot more obvious that there was…not much underneath. You tried not to stare.

“Y/N. Hello?”

“Hi. Yes. I’m coming in,” you said, letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in a nervous huff. The corner of Molly’s mouth twitched upward as she waved you in. “Did Sherlock send you?”

“What? No. I mean yes. Yes! Sherlock sent me.”

Molly giggled. “Alright then. Let’s get to it.”

You followed her to the basement, thinking that it would be nice if she’d take off her lab coat for once. In fact, you were so distracted that you forgot to come up with a reason Sherlock might send you back to the morgue with the case already solved and no new one to work on. He hadn’t found anything above a six yet. Certainly nothing to merit a trip outside 221b.

Before this has occurred to you Molly whipped around, lab coat swirling, to face you.

“You like it, don’t you?”

“Like what?” you said, way too quickly. Your eyes immediately flicker to her jacket. She smiled.

“You know, it’s…it’s a bit obvious.”

Your unvoiced wish came true as she dropped her lab coat to the floor of the hallway.

The jacket was pretty tight, snug around a figure that you hadn’t even known Molly had. It was oddly gratifying to see her watching you watch her, although the uncharacteristically smug expression on her face was just a little worrying. You were so caught up in the curves, the supple sheen of the leather, the way it hugged itself to her body like a desperate lover, that when Molly put a hand on your shoulder it came as a total surprise.

“Molly…?”

She smirked. You could feel your face flushing just from the proximity of your skin.

“You haven’t been able to take your eyes off me since…well.” The smirk deepened. “A leather fetish? Really?”

There was a note of scorn in her voice that for some reason really turned you on. “Bit cliche, isn’t it?”

“Um-”

But before you could finish your half formed protest, Molly’s mouth was smashed against yours and you couldn’t think of much else. The moment stretched, and you felt the blind timelessness that came with an unexpected kiss take hold.

Molly pulled away suddenly, leaving you breathless and more than a little shocked. She wasn’t exactly smiling per se, but there was a look of grim satisfaction on her usual sweet, frightened deer features. Then her hands were on your shoulders, and you were slammed against the wall with more strength that you’d previously assumed was in Molly’s small body, and a sudden thrill shot through you. Molly must’ve noticed the way your breath quickened, because she raised an eyebrow in mock surprise.

“You’re into this too, aren’t you?”

“I..I guess so?”

It was hard to think, with her hands pressed against you like that, the cold of the wall seeping through to your back. Molly smiled, traced a cold finger along the side of your face, and you shuddered.

“It’s actually quite interesting…” Your brain was having difficulty deciding whether to be caught up in her voice or the deceptively gentle touch of her skin.

“What is?” you breathed.

Molly shrugged, overly casual. Then she leaned close, painfully close, and whispered against your cheek: “The need to be dominated.”

You could feel your heart thudding through your shirt as she pressed her mouth against yours again, your body still pinned to the wall with the hand that wasn’t holding your face. Then her teeth were moving along your jawline, forcing your head up, and all you could see was the dizzyingly bright lights of the hospital hallway bursting like fireworks in your vision, white hot like the maddening mix of pleasure and pain sinking into you with each bite. She was at your neck, your collarbone…

“Molly,” you gasped, “Should we…take this…somewhere else?”

Molly paused for just long enough to speak. “My office is upstairs.”

***

When you got back to the flat, Sherlock and John were on the couch watching TV.

“Sherlock, would you stop spoiling it? How can you possibly tell that-”

“Oh, come on, it’s obvious. He shows up in the middle of the night and no one prevents a small girl from wasting half the food in their kitchen to please him? ‘My aunt is asleep, my parents are dead’? Another Donna. Or something. They’re clearly connected somehow. Someone’s messed with her universe.”

You cleared your throat. Sherlock looked up from the tv and grinned at you. “Ah! Y/N, you’re back. Hopefully you have something more interesting to say than John’s frankly dull speculation on a perfectly obvious plot.”

Something clicked in your head.

“You…you told her.”

“Mm.”

“You told Molly I have a- a-” you stammered, unwilling to complete the sentence in front of John.

“Leather fetish? Yes. It was getting rather tiresome, watching the two of you awkwardly not flirt.”

John’s forehead creased into a frown. “What, Y/N and Molly?”

“Patently obvious, John. Y/N, I assume you had a good time?”

You smiled in spite of yourself. “Yes…actually, I had a rather fantastic time.”

**Author's Note:**

> I finally finished it :D Sorry this took me so long. PLEASE send me critique, I love critique. Was something too much? Too little? Were the characters accurate? I would love to know. Again, sorry this took me so long. And sorry there was no whipping, I was not quite sure how to fit that in :P It sort of turned into light BDSM.


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